Haweswater - The Ghosts of Mardale
It had been a long, hot summer. It hadn't rained for weeks. Forecasters were comparing this summer to the heatwaves of 1976 & 1995. Wildfires had ravaged tinder-dry moorland on Winter Hill & Saddleworth Moor in Greater Manchester - the fires taking weeks to be extinguished. The North West of England was on the verge of having a hosepipe ban, and in the Lake District, drowned villages were emerging from their watery tombs.
Saturday 4th August 2018
I had put off any camping trips during the heatwave. Lugging my camping rucksack in that heat & humidity, would have been unbearable, & not my idea of fun.
It was still quite busy driving along the dead-end road to Mardale Head. It had been in the news recently about the 'lost village' of Mardale Green re-appearing like Atlantis due to the low water levels at Haweswater Reservoir, in the Far Eastern Lake District. But we'll get back to that later.
Plenty of cars were parked up on the narrow lane which ran along the shoreline, with tourists also walking in the road. At the end of the lane was a small car park, and just as I was turning in, I spotted a car pulling out, so quickly grabbed the space. Rucksack on my back, I headed out of the car park on the track west towards the Nan Bield Pass.
The pass heads up Mardale Head to the head of the valley & follows Small Water Beck, before reaching the beauty spot of Small Water.
As I headed up, I met plenty of day-walkers heading down in the opposite direction. Plenty of people had been out enjoying the sunshine on the fells. After a few cheery "hello's" I eventually reached Small Water.
I spotted two tents had been set up near the tarn's outflow, and on the opposite side of the tarn, a group of people were sunbathing on the shoreline & swimming in the tarn.
The path circles the northern edge of the tarn & past a few ancient stone shelters, no doubt dating back hundred of years when the pass was a common pack-horse route over towards Kentmere. From then, the path zigzags & climbs up the side of Small Water Crag, before reaching the Pass summit, marked by yet another large stone wind shelter.
The last time I was here was in November 2016 when I first climbed High Street (#28), and I made good use of this shelter. The top of the Pass is actually in a col - or dip - between the fells of Mardale Ill Bell (#27) to the north & Harter Fell to the south. The slopes of both fells channel the wind to gust through the top of the pass at a ferocious speed! Luckily, the wind was settled this time.
The top of the pass was also a crossroads. Last time I was here - I headed north, to Mardale Ill Bell. The Pass also headed straight over off the ridge, descending on the other side towards Kentmere - with a rather dry Kentmere Reservoir visible from the top of the pass. The other option, which I would be taking this time, turned south, and up onto the flanks of Harter Fell.
The path initially rose on the Kentmere side of the fell, with views over towards the western 'leg' of the Kentmere Horseshoe - the three distinct peaks of Yoke, Ill Bell & Froswick dominating the skyline.
As the path continued to climb, it turned easterly so that it was on the crags looking down onto Small Water - giving a spectacular birds-eye view of the tarn. As well as the wild-campers pitched at the outflow, I also spotted another tent pitched near a smaller tarn just to the north.
Around half an hour after leaving the Nan Bield Pass summit, I reached the Harter Fell summit plateau. It was a lovely, wide grassy 'field' of a hill top. But it was a bit blustery. I reached the summit cairn to officially 'claim' #139 - Harter Fell (Mardale) - 2,552 ft.
I've seen many times whilst out on the fells the ruins of old, rusted fence posts, marking the no-longer existent parish boundaries. But on the Harter Fell cairn, someone had decided to use these fence posts as part of the cairn - making it into a rusted collision of twisted metal & rock.
I continued along the path across the plateau, heading north east, keeping my eye open for a potential camping pitch.
Due to the wind blowing from the west, ideally I was looking for somewhere to pitch on the sheltered eastern slopes, just down off the summit plateau.
After a bit of wandering I finally settled on flat patch of land on the north east slopes. The ground was covered with thick grass - which made a comfortable 'mattress' for the night ahead. I had a glorious view east over Haweswater Reservoir (where I could also keep an eye on my car down in the Mardale Head car park), as well as the fells I was looking to climb in the morning.
The only downside of the pitch was that there wasn't a westerly view. I've found this to be a similar situation at a couple of the camp spots I've found in the Eastern & Far Eastern Fells. The higher mountains of these ranges - namely the Helvellyn & High Street ridges - mean the sun drops below the ridge-lines well before it actually sets.
So, after I had cooked & scoffed my dinner on the Jet-boil, I wandered up the fell-side slightly, beer in hand (chocolate in the other) onto the northern edge to watch what I could of the sunset. Thats one of the things that surprises me about some wild-campers. Those pitched down by Small Water would have no view whatsoever of the sunset, being enclosed within the bowl of crags surrounding the tarn. I find the sunset & sunrises can be the most spectacular part of a wild camp!
Unfortunately the dominating mass of High Street got in the way & obscured the sunset - the sun dipping below its ridge line before it had chance to put on any spectacular show of colour. I retired back to my tent, and finished off the rest of my beers before settling into my sleeping bag for the night.
Sunday 5th August 2018
My alarm went off just before 05:00 AM. Bleary eyed, I unzipped my tent door and peaked out. It was a bit cold, but there were clear skies overhead, with a hint of cloud to the east catching the first light of the day. The sun was still about half-an-hour from rising, so I set up my camera & set a time-lapse running.
Unfortunately, after it had finished, I played it back and noticed the image was blurring out as it progressed. I checked the lens and noticed it had a layer of condensation on it - it had fogged up in the cold morning air! That meant the time-lapse was useless. The sun was just beginning to peak over the clouds on the horizon, and some speckled high level cloud was starting to drift over from the west, creating quite a scene which I hastily captured. There was no point running another time-lapse now though, so I zipped up my tent door, and caught some shut-eye for another couple of hours.
It was sometime between 07:30 & 08:00 when I woke up again. I looked out of the tent door again to find the view had gone. It was just grey - the 'clag' had descended. I lazily brewed a coffee and ate my cereal bars before beginning to pack away a now damp tent - covered with morning dew.
I followed the path south-east, over Little Harter Fell, and down to the crossroads with the Gatescarth Pass bridleway which ran from Mardale Head south to the village of Sadgill.
Instead of picking up the bridleway, I headed straight over the crossroads on a faint path over some boggy ground, which then climbed straight up the grassy slopes & on to Branstree. The low cloud hinted it was beginning to break, lifting every now & then, teasing a view of the fell top ahead.
By the time I'd reached the top, the clag was hovering just above the summit & the sky was grey above the fell tops. I stuck to the path, and shortly after hitting the plateau, a wall appeared, and after a few minutes I then stumbled across the rather lack-lustre summit of Branstree.
(#140 - Branstree - 2,339 ft)
Similar to Blencathra*, all that marked the summit was a concrete Ordnance Survey 'trig-ring', and a small pile of stones. To call it a summit cairn would be a bit fanciful - as it looked like the stones had just been dumped there.
[* Its sad to report, that the trig-ring on the summit of Blencathra went missing at the end of August 2018 - whether it was stolen, or destroyed - no one knows, although there is a crowd-funding appeal to build a replacement.]
Just to the north west of the summit, I had heard there was a good vantage point high above the valley floor, looking down to Mardale Head & surrounding fells. I made my way over - just a minute or two from the summit where the grassy plateau sloped down slightly to a rocky outcrop. Looking west, the low cloud was now just lingering above Harter Fell - its summit cairn just barely visible in the distance. The other fells to the west were still shrouded. However - there was a glimmer of hope, as bright sunlight was trying to break through, partially illuminating the cliffs of Harter Fell.
I made my way back to Branstree summit point, and continued to follow the path east along the ridge, towards its subsidiary summit of Artlecrag Pike.
Curiously, there were two massive cairns built here. Whether they were specifically marking this location for some reason, or they were just way-points for travellers in bad weather - I wasn't too sure - but they were easily a good 7 foot tall at least!
The path headed down off Artle Crag to the large col between Branstree & Selside Pike - my next destination. I was aware of another landmark somewhere in this col, and looking at my map, I needed to cross the wire fence running straight over the fells to get to it.
I clambered over the fence, and picked up the path continuing across the col. I kept looking back in the direction I had come - the low cloud was again beginning to touch the top of Branstree. My next hill was lower than where I had just come from, so I was hopeful the cloud wouldn't drop any further.
Then, not too far in the distance I saw the landmark. A huge stone monolith - a pillar - standing out from the grassy plain.
This particular monument actually dates back to the 1930's - around the time construction of Haweswater Reservoir was underway. It is in fact a survey column used as part of the contruction of the Haweswater Aqueduct - a 72 mile pipeline running from Haweswater to Heaton Park reservoir in Manchester. Similar to the Thirlmere aqueduct - it is completely gravity powered - the water running downhill all the way.
Apparently there are some other examples of these survey pillars on the fells just to the south - but those I would have to explore on another day. For now, my route passed between two small tarns on the col, before heading to Captain Whelter Bog.
Now I've always thought someone needed to be famous, note-worthy, or held in high regard to have land named after them. However, when that piece of land is a damp bog - I'm not too sure. Anyway - whoever Captain Whelter was & whatever he did to have a bog named after him, that piece of information seems to have been lost in the history books (and I couldn't find anything on Google!)
After squelching my way along the path over the bog, the final slope towards Selside PIke appeared in front of me. I had to cross back over the wire fence again, but luckily there was a stile at hand, meaning it was a more graceful crossing.
It was a straight forward slope up to the top, where there was a large - horse-shoe shaped wind shelter built on the summit.
Curiosity got the better of me, and I was pretty sure the wind shelter wasn't the highest ground of the fell - the hill seemed to be ever-so slightly higher a hundred feet or so to the west, so I had a trample around my 'true' summit just to make sure - although the difference did seem to be very negligible.
#141 - Selside Pike - 2,149 ft
From then on, it was all downhill. Although my map pictured no paths on either Branstree or Selside Pike, I picked up a trail heading north east down the ridge of Selside End. This eventually met up with the ancient 'Corpse Road' which ran from Mardale Green over to Shap. Turning left here, I followed the Corpse Road as it zig-zagged its way down the braken-covered hillside. Just before the path dropped to the steepest part of its descent, I went to investigate a couple of old ruined huts. From here there were fantastic views over the Haweswater Reservoir. The cloud had begun to lift, and blue sky was starting to show - as were some of the old walls of Mardale Green on the shores of the reservoir below.
At the bottom of the old Corpse Road track was where I reached the lakeside road, leading me back to Mardale Head just over half a mile away.
Epilogue - A Visit to Mardale Green
I couldn't venture over to Mardale, hike it's fells, and leave before visiting the ruins of Mardale Green, so I dropped my camping gear in the boot of my car, swapped to my day-pack and headed towards the reservoir.
The water level wasn't as low as in previous years of drought. The famous pack-horse bridge was still somewhere in the murky depths & only the outskirts of the village were visible. But an old road, possibly the start of the Gatescarth Pass, lined with ruined stone walls, led the way in. There were a few people about, all using this track.
As I headed along the track, the grass 'fields' were left behind, replaced with dry, cracked mud. Just before reaching the waters edge, I came across the ruined foundations of a building, its far end still submerged in its watery grave.
Most of the remains of the village were still underwater, but it was sobering to think that this place was once somewhere that people lived & worked. In fact Mardale Green was a popular little village back in the day. It had approximately one hundred residents, a school, a 12th century church & a pub, with visitors to the popular Dun Bull Inn able to play tennis in its tennis courts. The Dun Bull also held an annual gathering of shepherds, where they met to reclaim their stray livestock, which turned into a week long celebration. Alfred Wainwright also visited the village prior to its drowning.
However, in 1919 the Manchester Corporation bought the valley, and planned to dam the small natural lake, Hawes Water, at the opposite end of the valley. The aim of this was to create a massive reservoir - capable of holding 84 billion litres of water - & to then channel it's waters 70 miles south, to help meet the water demands of Manchester.
Of course, the residents objected, but their cries fell on deaf ears. Work began on building the dam in 1929 and took six years to complete. A final service was held in the church to a packed congregation on 18th August 1935. In the months following, the villagers were evicted, the church graves exhumed & reburied in Shap. The British Army's Royal Engineers then entered the abandoned village & used the majority of the buildings for demolition practise, before finally, the village was flooded.
Only one building was spared this fate - Holy Trinity Church - which was instead dismantled piece by piece. The old weather vane from the church is currently installed on the church in Shap, and the pulpit resides at a church in Rosthwaite, Borrowdale.
Some of the stone & slate was also recovered from the demolished village & re-used locally. Partly used to build water towers around the shoreline of the reservoir, and partly to build the Haweswater Hotel. Built in 1937 as part of the Manchester Corporation's project, this art-deco style hotel was built to replace Mardale Green's Dun Bull Inn & is the only inhabited building on the reservoir shoreline.
As I crossed the barren muddy fields & followed Mardale Beck back towards the car park, I wondered what life would be like if I could turn back time to see the village as it was some 90-odd years ago - alot simpler, and alot slower paced - that's for sure.
Mark
History of Mardale Green sourced from:
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